


When you get together with your friend to bake, it's usually a good idea to get the recipes beforehand

by lightningcritters



Category: Jibaku Shounen Hanako Kun - Fandom
Genre: Domestic Fluff, F/M, TBHK Gift Exchange 2020, amanene is a ship i adore for how soft they are for each other, merry christmas!!, this is a comedy as much as it is fluff lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-26
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:40:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28331742
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lightningcritters/pseuds/lightningcritters
Summary: No Supernaturals AUAmane and Nene cooking together at Amane’s house! With no adult or Kou supervision. Lots of fluff, no angst allowed here in this household. At one point they do pull up Kou on the videochat because he is on a vacation trip with his family and couldn’t make it to their baking day.
Relationships: Hanako | Yugi Amane/Yashiro Nene
Comments: 12
Kudos: 43





	1. Bakin' and Pinin'

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Miko (Mito Mitochondria)](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=Miko+%28Mito+Mitochondria%29).



> Hello! Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays!!
> 
> I hope you are having a fun Christmas, I hope you enjoy this fic! The other two chapters will be released tomorrow in rapid succession. I kept getting some really good ideas for maximum fluff potential so I decided to separate the fic because I still want you to receive this gift on Christmas. Please look forward to it!! :DD

“Yashirooo,  _ please _ , can I  _ please  _ have the phoneeee?” Nene scrutinizes him from the other side of the marble counter, mouth pursed in exaggerated thought. Amane widens his eyes, pouting even more. 

She lifts her chin with a suspicious hum. He rests his face on his crossed arms, squishing his cheeks a little and grins when she finally relents with a heavy sigh, sliding her pink phone across the counter into his grabby hands. Nene makes a face when the too familiar song from the newest meme video he's found from Twitter plays, shaking her head in fond exasperation as she watches him dance in his seat, elbows moving cheerfully in the air. He looks ridiculous from behind the counter, looking more like an over-enthusiastic kid. 

“Amane-kun! We can’t start cooking until the co-cook washes his hands!!” She rolls her eyes, scooping up a wrapped chocolate and tossing it at his head. He barks out a laugh, sliding into a dramatic sideways stance to watch the chocolate sail past his eyes as he just keeps dancing, every step taking him closer to the sink. She can’t help a short snort, shaking her head.

She turns back to the mixing bowl, peering suspiciously down at the recipe on Amane’s phone screen as she shakes the little white bag to get the last of it out, trying to not have it spill out onto the counter. “15 cups of flour? This recipe is- Amane-kun, I don’t think we’re going to have enough flour.” 

“Oh, that’s not the recipe. It’s just the ingredients list.” He pipes up over the sound of running water, bursting into laughter when Nene shrieks. 

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN THAT’S NOT THE RECIPE? WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME EARLIER??”

“It says ingredients right at the top! I don’t know how you missed it!” He wipes his hands over his soft jeans and snickers as Nene pulls a face of regret after a few taps up to the top of the notes page. He can’t help laughing when she miserably picks up a nearby measuring cup and sticks it into the mountain of flour.

He puts a hand over hers, pulling the measuring cup and its little mountain of cake flour away out of her fingers as he moves the bowl of flour to the side. “Don’t worry about it, Yashiro, we can just put the leftovers back into the bag. Do you have the recipes?”

“I thought you were supposed to get them?”

Amane blinks owlishly. Nene sighs, knocking her forehead into his shoulder. “We both forgot.” She groans, knocking her head again. “We have no recipes.” 

Nene can’t help herself knocking her head one more time in exasperation. She stayed up until 3am, wildly oscillating between being nervous and being beyond herself with joy to spend a whole day with Amane. She got only six hours of sleep, which is definitely not enough for her beauty sleep, mind you, _ and  _ completely forgot about picking what to cook. 

“I can’t believe we planned to cook  _ today  _ and we  _ completely  _ forgot to pick out what to cook.” She groans again, turning her face to prop her cheek on Amane’s shoulder, rubbing her hand into her eyes. Maybe Kou was onto something when he told them point blank that just the two of them cooking was only going to result in a phone call to the fire station- this time not to the school but to Amane’s house. Except that Kou is pretty sure that it would not be the first time. Not that any fires would start when they have nothing to cook.

“Don’t tell Kou-” Amane says quickly, glancing down.

“Don’t tell Kou-kun” Nene says quickly, looking up. 

Nene feels Amane stifling his laugh more than she hears it as she grins. She stares at the pretty amber eyes of her best friend, her grin quickly growing nervous at the intense realization that they were close enough that she could feel his breath tickling her cheek. She quickly looks away, straightening, her blush deeply flushing when his arm reaches around her, inviting her to stay close. “Well, maybe we could uh, just, just look up something on your- our phones. What um, what do you feel like making today?” She was weak, sue her. She immediately relaxes, picking up his phone that she propped up over the sink.

“How about something spicy? I know you already want to make desserts,” She looks pointedly to the innocent assorted bags of sugars. “But we can’t just have that for lunch.”

“Maybe some people can’t survive eating donuts for every meal of the day.” He hums, moving to encircle his arms around her, chin resting on her shoulder to watch her type into the search engine. A faint blush graced his cheeks. “I’m just built different.”

He watched her fingers twiddle a bit over the screen. “Your coach will get mad again if he hears that.” 

He grins a bit less widely and more fondly as Nene’s shoulders shake a little with her giggles. He is so tempted to just close his eyes into her hair and squeeze her tighter to him, a bit possessively he admits. He chances a quick glance to her thoughtful face, watching her expression change every now and then, just a bit, with her thoughts. He tugs her a little closer, nuzzling his chin into her shoulder, smiling as her fingers absentmindedly scratches his head, rubbing strands of his hair between her fingers. He couldn’t see much from his position, since her cheek blocked most of view, save for her soft rosy cheeks, a glimmer of her curved eyelashes and the peak of her round nose.  _ She’s so cute.  _

Nene’s noise of discovery suddenly wakes him from his drowsy contentment, his wide eyes snapping to the phone screen, a wide nervous grin on his face. “YEah?” He winces at the slight crack in his voice. “Ooh, yeah, that looks good. Looks tasty.” Then he finally recognized the picture and lit up. “Oooh, fried chicken!! YEAH! That looks so good.”

Nene, not at all phased by Amane clearly having spaced out again, just giggles. “Okay, so… For the Christmas Cake, I think we still have strawberries leftover from the sleepover and we bought whipped cream.” 

“We have all the ingredients for fried chicken, KFC-style.” He says eagerly, reaching up to scroll down the page. Her thumb lifted away from the screen, tilting the phone towards him in a desperate attempt to have him not lean so close- she is about to tumble over- his hair is tickling her neck- She barely holds in a relieved sigh when he points at the next page of the recipe. “And sauce! We can make our own sauce!”

Nene hides her flustered reaction with a thoughtful hum as she walks over to the dinner table to peruse their ingredients properly, Amane in tow like always. “We can make butter cookies,” She says, putting aside the icy boxes of butter. “Chocolate cookies, maybe some sugar cookies? Matcha…” Amane catches sight of the packs of chocolate chips and is instantly reminded of last year when everyone got together to bake for Kou’s birthday- “How about some macarons!?”

“They’re going to be so lopsided.” Nene laughs, picking up the can of grease-spray-thingie. Amane cringes upon seeing it, remembering when Akane spritzed it right at him to test if it worked and the horrid taste seemed to burn in memory.

Amane cheers, clapping his hands gleefully as he parts from Nene. “YES!! Macaron!” He helps Nene remove the wrapping on the egg carton when she pushes it to him.

“We need six, no, eight eggs. Six for the recipe, two extra for when you smash the eggs too hard against the counter.”

“Yashiro, where is your faith in me!” Nene laughs right in his face as he whines, precariously balancing the eggs in his hands and arms. “A lot of faith apparently since I’m making you get the egg whites from _six_ eggs!” She clears the counter of the one flour bag she  _ wasted  _ earlier, passing a clear bowl to Amane who settles next to her. He grumbles at her, poking at her with his elbow just as she was shaking the can of grease spray. She giggles, waving it a little in his direction to his horror but redirected the nozzle to spray it just just over the cake tin. He still shrieks at the sight of the nozzle, dropping an egg, the first casualty of the afternoon. 

Amane petulantly sticks his tongue out at her pointed side-eye as he cleans up the egg. 

Soft, cheerful indie rock played in the comfortable silence as they worked. Amane separating the egg whites using the two shells of the fir- second egg, after scooping out its egg yolk. He did it carefully, having done it enough times under Kou’s watchful eye. Amane hummed along to  _ alcott  _ ’s vocals, trying to place a name to the song just as Nene pulled out a roll of baking parchment, gently poking him to move so she could pull a pair of scissors from a drawer.

She perks up at the first two beats of the next song, throws a smirk in Amane’s direction, and immediately starts rapping along, shoulder wiggling as she sings along. He laughs softly, not wanting to cover her singing as he joins in at the high note. She grins at him, pausing her cutting as they join together in the song. His heart felt so light as their voices meshed together, a warm beautiful sound that he never tired of, whether it was in school, the living room or over his guitar in his room. He bops his head, feeling a grin tug at his lips at her playful hip bump as the last beat fades away.

“ホワイトアウト, one of my favorites!” She exclaims, turning back to cutting out the parchment paper for the cake tin. “I was just listening to it the other day before my chemistry final and I immediately added it to my favorites playlist.” 

“I haven’t heard a lot from reGretGirl, but I’ll check them out.” Amane promises as he pulls up the recipe on his phone, scrolling up to check the measurement on the oil and milk. “I’m going to blend the eggs with the oil and milk, so have the dry ingredients ready.”

“I gotchu.” She chirps, walking by him to grab the bag of fine granulated sugar. “Caster sugar? Wow, I’ve never seen this type before.”

“Yeah, Kou mentioned that it’s the best for airy pastries. Which is probably the best kind of sugar for the sponge cake.” She nods with a hum. 

The cheerful beats of rock music and gentle sunlight of a wintery afternoon lulls them both into a comfortable silence as they worked. But Nene is too aware of the nervous tingle in her fingers and arms, the slight bit of tension that seeped into her every movement. She almost misses the ease from back when she hadn’t realized her crush on her best friend yet. Every hug innocent, every hand-hold painfully naive of its usual meaning, every touch a natural part of their friendship. His clinginess was endearing and only sometimes inconvenient but it never gave her the same butterflies and heat in her cheeks that she had now. And she yearns so bad to instead hold his face, touch their foreheads together, noses brushing, breaths mingling- She scrunches her nose, willing herself to quickly stop that train of thought. 

A few moments later after mixing in the dry ingredients, she was looking down at the result of giving Amane permission to use the hand mixer on the counter. 

“So far so good. Nothing spilled yet.” She finally comments dryly. Amane just groans, turning off the hand mixer. “It’s not that bad!” She placates. “It’s just a little here… and there… and… there…” He quickly scoops away the evidence with the same black spatula Tsuchigomori used for cooking vegetables and then resumes the mixing with an innocent whistle to Nene’s unimpressed eyes. 

“What are you doing!? You’re wasting precious butter melting time! Get the cream!”

Nene rolls her eyes at that and Amane grins at how fond the exasperated look is as she adds the ½ teaspoon of cream of tartar. His grin fades a bit when he realizes that she is holding a tablespoon… not a teaspoon, but he says nothing. It will probably be fine. 

Both Nene and Amane are proud to report that the rest of the batter came together without much incident. Nene didn’t accidentally send the pan flying to the floor when she drops the pan to get rid of air bubbles and none of the meringue glooped over the kitchen floor when Amane was in charge of folding the meringue. Nene appreciated the forearm eye candy when he rolled up his sleeves. 

And then they both realized that they forgot to preheat the oven. They laughed off the pain, avoided looking at the oven while waiting for it to preheat so they got started on the macarons. Clearly, they had forgotten Kou’s warning from the first baking day the trio had ever done that macarons were not as easy as cookies or banana bread.


	2. That's Gotta Be Too Much Flour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kou enters the scene! Perhaps these macarons will be made!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter has been updated with slightly more content and better formatting, feel free to read it again! :D

“These macarons are going to look so lumpy.” Nene snickers, pointing gleefully at the little lumps of flour that had fallen out of the strainer and the uneven mountain of flour. 

“Nooo, don’t point at it!” Amane whines, whacking her extended finger with the strainer to her surprise as she yelps and then dissolves into laughter when some of the lumpy flour spilled into the mixing bowl. He groans, reluctantly pouring in some more flour into the strainer as he returns to bumping it against his palm, a bit more gently this time.

“Yeah yeah, stop laughing at me. Go back to whatever you’re sifting.” Nene only shakes her head, going back to adding more sugar from the measuring cup into her strainer. Watching the gentle, but boringly repetitive fall of white sugar crystals, she stole another glance at Amane who added another spoonful of flour and she paused. Then sighed.

“Amane-kun?”

A soft “Hm?” sounded from him, the soft sound melting her heart. But he clearly was just scooping the flour with a dinner spoon. It must be said.

“Did you measure the flour?”

At the silence, she looked up to Amane, who stood stock-still, mouth opened in a perfect “D:” face that she burst in laughter, almost folding in half in giggles at the slightly panicked lip smacking noises as he quickly scooped an empty measuring cup, leaving the strainer to desperately balance between the stacks of bowls. The laugh hiccups out of her throat when she lunges forward just as it began slipping on the precarious stacks, but her fingers end up crashing right into its rim sending it toppling over the counter as she screams in shock when her own strainer crashes into the side of Amane’s bowl, spilling sugar over the counter. 

Amane yelps at the loud noise, adding his own shriek to the chaos when his mixing bowl knocks into his measuring cup, wrenching his wrist forward too hard. A subconscious part of him finds it hilarious that the singer started singing soulful “aaahs” in the background. 

“WHY-”

“NOO I SPILLED THE SUGAR”

“We could eat that.” Amane looks down at the smatter of sugar against the counter and he just hums, righting his hand, looking at the mess too intently for Nene to think he’s joking. “The ones in the pile aren't touching the counter.”

“We are _not_ eating the sugar on the counter!” Nene replies indignantly, picking up his strainer from the side, frowning sadly at the flour draped over the other side of the stack of dinner bowls like lava on some sort of volcano. There was enough flour in the top bowl for it to be a volcano’s peak. Maybe she could send a photo to Kou. _Baking’s going great! :))_

“Why did you put so much flour in this anyway!? You’re supposed to put a bit at a time.” She protests, shaking what little of the flour remained in the strainer back into the original mixing bowl with all their flour. 

“Otherwise it clogs up, I know Yashiro,” He punctuates the last scoop of the measuring cup with an eye roll. “But it’s just faster than the way you do it. Besides, it didn’t clog up.”

“Faster my ass, look, I’m already halfway done. You’re still on the measuring step!”

“What do you meaaaan I only started measuring because you want it to be so precise.”

“We’re making _macarons_ , it’s _supposed to be precise!!"_

“Pfft, whatever, it’s going to taste the same either way. It doesn’t matter if it looks weird.”

“Don’t think I forgot your temper tantrum when the donuts from last month came out looking weird. You’re going to throw a hissy fit because they look like dorayaki.”

“They aren’t donuts if they’re not circles!!” He cries out. “You guys blamed me for the weird shape but I know that _I_ used the mold properly, it was Kou who squished them in the pan. _The injustice of it allll-_ ” His words are caught off when Nene headbutts him. For her sanity. She’s heard enough of his rant to recite it in her sleep instead of Kobayashi Issa’s poems for her literature exam.

She rolls her eyes, having already sifted the rest of the sugar while they were squabbling, and dumps the sugar into his flour bowl. “Oh, I just realized we don’t have Kou’s food processor. The macarons lids aren’t going to look smooth.”

“I think we’ll be okay if we just eat all the macarons before anyone can see them.” 

She grins, an unladylike snort leaving her as she elbows him in the side. He squawks at that, almost dropping the new mountain of flour right into the mixing bowl. But before he could say anything, Nene walks away to the dinner table to grab more eggs. He pouts instead, already deeply missing her being at her side. He could feel Mitsuba’s eyeroll from the other side of the kitchen, despite the pink-haired loudmouth not being there. 

A piercing shrill rings through the kitchen and he briefly wonders maybe Mitsuba was actually here the entire time.

“Oh! The oven is ready! Quick, put the batter in. Don’t forget the oven gloves!”

“Jeez Yashiro, I’m not that dumb.” 

“No, but you are that forgetful.” He squints at her with a petulous tongue sticking out at her general direction as he gently places it in, firmly closing it. “How long?” 

“The recipe said fifty-five minutes but a hour should be fine.”

“Oh no, look who’s not being precise again- ack.” A bright pink oven mitt smacks right into his face when he turns around, the aim too precise and strong to be anyone but his Yashiro. 

“Boohoohoooo” He cries, catching it before it falls to the ground as he sets them aside. He hids her mitt behind the potted plant that Tsuchigomori dreaded to bring back from his office. Its bushy leaves hid the bright pink color pretty well. 

“Oh, Kou-kun said that he reached America! He just got off the plane.” Nene pipes up from the other side of the kitchen, completely missing Amane’s giveaway grin that he was up to mischief as she then shows him Kou’s photo of his thumbs-up in front of a window overlooking an airport. Teru and Tiara were clearly unaware of the photo being taken as Teru was pulling Tiara from mushing her face into the glass, her little legs valiantly kicking in the air under his arm. 

Amane snorts as he goes back to sifting the flour. “Wow, he must be tired. It’s what, 1am there right now?”

“Probably. His sister took a nap so she’s definitely full of energy.” He hears the clickety keyboard tapping noises from the kitchen. Yashiro is probably the only person he knows who isn’t a middle-aged mom or grandma that keeps the keyboard noises on and half the time, it’s because they didn’t even know how to turn it off. Like Yako. For someone who is only older than them by a decade, she is woefully bad with technology. It would be funny if her short temper didn’t come with the punchline. 

“Kou-kun! Hello!” He perks up at that, smiling wide as Nene turns the phone screen to face Amane. Nene only catches the top of his head, but Amane waves nonetheless. “Hey, Kou!”

“Hi guys!” He seems cheerful despite the dark sky behind him, still clearly walking through the airport. Nene walks over to him, angling the camera to have the both of them in the frame. Kou turns his head back from talking with his dad offscreen and he grins brilliantly at them. Clearly, he is just as boundless in energy as his younger sister. 

He raises his eyebrow in typical Minamoto fashion at the flour crawling up Amane’s arm and the splatter of white on their clothes. “Why aren’t you guys wearing aprons?”

Amane hears the offscreen laughter before he and Nene both look down and realizes that neither of them were wearing aprons. “WAIT-” They both yell just as Kou stares at them incredulously. “You two are such dumbasses, did you even remember to wash your hands?”

“I can’t believe I got called a dumbass by our school’s resident dumbass, are you kidding me?” Amane groans, walking over to the clothing hooks, just as Nene pipes up indignantly with an “Of course we did, that’s just being hygienic!” 

Nene blushes when she feels cloth drape over her front, the neck loop drooped carefully over her head to avoid her hairclips as Amane came up from behind, tying her apron for her. She glares at Kou who grins at her, his naturally sharp canines flashing in his smugness.

“So what are you guys making?”

“Christmas cake, cookies, ma-” Amane tugs at the apron strings, probably to make sure they weren’t too tight, and Nene stumble over her words, heart beating rapidly at the tug that pulled her a little closer to him, which is so unfair- he can _not_ do that to her, her face was flushing too red- oh god- “Macarons, matcha cookies, butter cookies, um… We’re not planning on making too much.”

“And fried chicken!” Amane pipes up from behind, resting his head on Nene’s shoulder. Kou flashes them a thumbs up, nodding eagerly as he slides a bright pink earbud (an early New Year’s gift from Mitsuba) into his right ear. The little bunny charm somehow didn’t look silly on the side of his head. “Don’t forget to send me pictures! We’ll be waiting a while for our ride to get here. Apparently father told them the wrong time.”

“Why don’t you just order a taxi?” Amane says confused as Nene laughs, turning Kou’s volume to its maximum as she balances it carefully on some shopping bags full of snacks from the combini close to their school. She walks back to the dinner table to grab the eggs and egg whites she was whipping, bringing it over to where Amane returned to adding more flour to his strainer. 

“My parents don’t have American cash on them and it’d be easier to just wait for our relatives to come, plus the- How much flour are you using??” Clearly Kou caught sight of the strainer and Amane grins toothily, bringing it closer into the camera and he shrieks, wriggling in his seat, as if Amane can pie him in the face with it across the Pacific Ocean. 

“Just enough, I measured it this time!”

“Because I told him to.” Nene comments as she slides the plate over the bowl with the egg yolks, whipping the egg whites fiercely. 

“I think that might be too much.” Kou furrows his eyebrows. “Nah, I’m doing the cooking by the book.” Both Kou and Nene share a glance, agreeing on distracting him before he starts breaking into song and dance, enthusiastically quoting an American song from the Internet for the next three minutes.

“Amane-kun, can you whip the egg whites?”

“So what are you guys making right now?”

“Macarons.” Amane says, amused at the way Kou’s grin turned wry but still encouraging in typical Kou fashion. He leans over to take Nene’s offered bowl as she turns away, shaking her bowl from before to get any remnants of the sifted sugar out as she takes his hand, admiring his cool touch to her overly warm hands as she borrows his finger to unlock his screen. 

Amane and Kou’s conversation fades to the background as she scrolls through the search results. The pictures of the first recipe look reputable enough and the ingredients weren’t so specific that they would have to make it the hard way. She glances over to Amane whipping the meringue. Kou was already pointing out that the light pink peaks of the meringue were most definitely not stiff enough.

She stifles a giggle when Amane almost drops the upside down bowl over his head, his flour covered fingers leaving pale streaks over the metallic underside. “Amane-kun, can you pass me the hand mixer?”

“Of course.” He replies, passing it over to her. She puts it next to her as she measures the flour and then groans when the phone screen goes dark, taking Amane's hand to borrow his finger again. She makes a small frustrated noise when the phone doesn't recognize his flour-covered finger so she takes the edge of her apron to clean it, smiling when the recipe lights up again. Completely unaware of the silence from her still friend, who stared at his hand in hers, face tinged red.

“Kou-kun, what does it mean to fluff your flour?” Amane swiftly looks away, pretending to be inspecting the meringue the whole time.

“Just use your spoon to stir the flour before scooping it into the measuring cup. But use the spoon to level the flour because it’ll take up more space.” Kou was a true friend, revealing nothing from his toothy grin.

Nene nods along, letting go of Amane's hand to show him the giant mixing bowl of flour as she stirs it with a dinner spoon.

“Why... that’s gotta be too much flour, senpai.”

“Nooooooo,” She protests at Amane’s sudden laughter, pouting sadly as she begins spooning the flour into the measuring cup. 

“No… Senpai, that’s definitely gotta be too much.”

Amane just laughs louder at Nene’s wilted posture, almost spilling the dry mixture from the meringue. “Stop laughing, Amane-kun! I just misread the ingredients list, that’s all!”

“Ohhh…” Kou nods sympathetically. “Sometimes we misread 1 cup as 15 cups, it happens.” Amane wheezes at Nene’s puffed cheeks. Now, that would be funny if the gang hadn’t made that mistake. 

On multiple occasions.

Usually by the same guy with pink hair. Still not sure how their school hasn’t started a manhunt for their fellow first year for his dyed hair now that he thinks about it. 

“Actually, this time we didn’t.” She mutters, rather intent on watching the knife slide through the butter instead of Amane’s shaking shoulders, who was now just leaning on the counter. 

“She thought that the ingredients was the recipe!” Amane wheezes, his forehead on the counter.

“That’s… that’s what a recipe is.” Kou just sounds more confused. “It tells you what you need… and how to make it.”

“No!” She finally cries, brandishing the hand mixer threateningly at Amane who shrieks, hugging the merengue bowl protectively to his chest. “Don’t worry about it Kou-kun, this bowl is where the flour lives now!”

“Oookay, Yugi, you better not have laughed right into the merengue. That’s just gross.”

“Of course I didn’t.” Amane brushes off the suggestion with the confidence of an innocent man.

“Of course, your bangs are pink because you decided to dye your hair in the three minutes you were off screen.” 

“Of course.” Amane says, brandishing the merengue covered spatula over the suspiciously clean rim of the bowl. 

Nene sprinkles some flour on the pink goop stuck in his bangs to his chagrin, his mouth stretched in a betrayed and despaired “D:”. Both Nene and Kou laugh in his face. Amane doesn’t hesitate to boop Nene’s cheek with the spatula and before she even had the time to gasp, he flicks some flour on top. 

“You’re so petty!” 

“ _You’re so petty.”_ He parrots back with a little of his tongue out, grinning as she flicks his forehead. 

“You’re such an idiot.” She shakes her head. Kou makes a face at how disgustingly soft and whipped the both of them are.


End file.
